Shards Broken
by ephiny63
Summary: COMPLETED Another adaptation of SadeLyrate's chapter 53 Broken, from Shards, Sheets, Scraps. I can only hope that I have done it justice. Lured into an abandoned warehouse Sam lies bleeding and hurt and very alone. Where's Dean? pls R
1. Chapter 1

* * *

Disclaimer: Nothing new, just the usual I love to hurt, torture, kiss and caress the guys before I send em back.

An Adaptation: from Sade Lyrate's Broken, Chapter 53 of Shards, Shreds, Scraps.

Author's Note: When I received this new chapter in my alerts this morning, it matched a dream I had last night scaringly so I had to do something with it. I hope that I have done it justice as Sade Lyrate is one of my all time favourite writers in the Fan Fiction world and I am in awe of her little snippets.

* * *

Broken

Chapter One 

He tried to ignore the burn in his back, and-

_don'tthinkaboutthat_

His legs wouldn't cooperate, his whole body ached, his cell could have been on the Moon instead of mere feet away.

The afterimage of a supernova flared within his skull as he crawled, the gravel biting into the palm of his left hand. A move, another, the pain aggravated by each pull. Short bursts of breath, his head swimming, the siren song of sleep ever stronger.

The familiar form under his fingers sent a quick praise tumbling through his sluggish mind, past bruised lips.

He flopped against the wall on his side, teeth clenching at the spikes the tiles' roughness drove into his nerves, hand clutching the little device like the straw it was. A deep breath, sea urchins within his lungs, and he flipped open the cell, slick fingers slipping over the speed dial.

"This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency-"

_No._

He sucked in a breath that felt too much like a sob, waited for the recorded message to play out. Prayed Dean'd _pick up the damn phone!_  
Unmistakable beep, mocking him just like his body, lips unfamiliar as he sought to form words, eyes closing as he concentrated on what he knew, what he needed, what he had to do.

Somewhere along the line, he forgot to open them again.

* * *

Moments or hours ago –

Sam stared at his phone and tried to clear his mind but he couldn't stop thinking about the message. Garbled and indistinct, but it definitely sounded like Dean. His older brother went to get their dinner while Sam finished his research on the laptop. A simple hunt that was glaringly obvious.

An abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of another nondescript town in the middle of nowhere. A group of teenagers supposedly used it for the place of a séance calling the spirits of some very nasty men. Unknowing and too trusting they used the ouija board on the misguided advice of a friend of a friend. No one knew of the protection prayer to close the circle and keep out the nasties, no one knew that they should have their candles on the four points, no one knew that they should close the séance with a prayer thanking the good spirits for their protection and closing the board before the nasties leeched in.

No one told them what would happen if they called the spirit of a murderer, a rapist or even a bully would result in mayhem and death. They did it for fun.

Sighing heavily Sam armed himself with the rifle filled with rock salt, a handgun loaded with live ammunition, a flask of holy water and their Dad's journal. Satisfied that he had everything Sam stepped out of the motel room and looked down the long road a miserable expression marring his handsome face. A frown deepened the creases on his forehead, Dean had the car, another deep sigh wound its way through his chest cavity, and escaped passed his lips, as he pulled the collar of his jacket up Sam started to jog towards the warehouse. Silently berating Dean along the way, his older brother so stubborn and so protective, deciding to do the hunt his way. Leaving Sam behind with his slight head cold, not wanting him to have exposure to any supernatural activity until the cold bugs moved on.

As he neared the warehouse Sam breathed heavily, almost gasping for breath as his congested lungs wanted to expel the phlegm there and then. Glancing around he did a visual recon of the area, no signs of any activity and the impala was no where to be seen.

A twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach made Sam stop and consider his position; carefully he crept along the wall, feeling the broken tiles at his back and the gravel rolled under his feet. Carefully he moved further, into the building Sam's senses moved into high alert, something felt so wrong, there was no sign of Dean.

'Nice of you to join the party,' a harsh voice came from the shadows startling Sam; he pushed himself back against the wall and peered out through squinting eyes.

'Oh whatsa matta Sammy don't you want to play?' another voice taunted him from behind.

Moving with blind instinct Sam extricated the flask of holy water and flung it at the voice from behind him. A harsh cry filled the air and gave Sam a small sense of satisfaction. But then, then he saw the figure moving into the dull light giving Sam a better view of his tormentor. The voice sounded so much like Dean's but the body held no resemblance whatsoever. 'Now that wasn't very nice Sammy, you have to learn to play nicely.'

'Yeah right as if you know what playing nicely is all about.' Sam yelled out trying to buy some time to gauge just how many spirits were in the immediate area. Internally he continually scolded himself for being such a fool. Dean was probably back at the motel with something interesting and hot to eat. Instead, Sam let himself lured into a situation that Dean never would ... scratch that yes he would. Especially if they threatened him with harm to Sam.

A harsh laugh gurgled in his throat, yes the Winchester boys were starting to become predictable when it comes to each other.

Blinding light flared burning Sam's retinas, screaming he dropped his gun, his hands flying to his burning eyes, tears streamed down his face as he tried to force his burning eyes to focus on the danger surrounding him. 'Now would be a good time Dean, you can come crashing in anytime now.' The thought flew from Sam's mind as he reached around with flailing hands. A mocking laugh filled his ears prickling at his hurt pride and fuelled his growing anger.

'Come out, come out wherever you are.' The voice mocked Sam again, the blow from behind made him stumble forward exposing his position completely.

'Who are you?' Sam rasped trying to buy time for his eyes, weeping cleansing tears washing away the stinging burn. 'What do you want?'

'Such a clichéd question Sammy, by now surely you should know what is wanted and who I am.'

'Surprise me.' Sam shot out as he lurched towards the protection of the wall, where was Dean? Why hadn't he come yet?

'Oh Dean won't be coming anytime soon Sammy, you're all mine.'

'What have you done to Dean?'

'Nothing yet, why do you want me to do something?'

'Leave my brother alone.' Sam cried out, with shaking fingers he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket ready to hit the speed dial to alert Dean to his predicament.

The blast deafened Sam momentarily, stunned he stood there unsure of exactly what happened. The small mobile phone no longer sat in his numb fingers, vaguely Sam registered landing on the ground away from him.

Laughter filled the suddenly silent arena and then applause rippled through the building. 'Ah you are such fun to play with Sammy, but unfortunately we have another rather pressing engagement.'

Sam tried to move but his body seemed frozen, when suddenly, the pain flared igniting a fire in his back. Placing a hand to hold his aching spine Sam frowned and pulled it away, slick and wet from something dripping down his back. The acrid stench of burnt skin mixed with gunpowder permeated the air making Sam gag. Someone had been shot, then he realised it was him, as his knees buckled and he felt himself falling towards the unforgiving gravel and concrete beneath him.

'Dean,' he whispered, his voice bubbling with blood as his face connected with the floor, his teeth sinking through the soft flesh of his tongue.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Supernatural – Broken

Disclaimer: Nothing new, just the usual I love to hurt, torture, kiss and caress the guys before I send em back.

An Adaptation: from Sade Lyrate's Broken, Chapter 53 of Shards, Shreds, Scraps.

* * *

He tried to ignore the burn in his back, and-

_don'tthinkaboutthat_

His legs wouldn't cooperate, his whole body ached, his cell could have been on the Moon instead of mere feet away.

The afterimage of a supernova flared within his skull as he crawled, the gravel biting into the palm of his left hand. A move, another, the pain aggravated by each pull. Short bursts of breath, his head swimming, the siren song of sleep ever stronger.

The familiar form under his fingers sent a quick praise tumbling through his sluggish mind, past bruised lips.

He flopped against the wall on his side, teeth clenching at the spikes the tiles' roughness drove into his nerves, hand clutching the little device like the straw it was. A deep breath, sea urchins within his lungs, and he flipped open the cell, slick fingers slipping over the speed dial.

"This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency-"

_No._

He sucked in a breath that felt too much like a sob, waited for the recorded message to play out. Prayed Dean'd _pick up the damn phone!_  
Unmistakable beep, mocking him just like his body, lips unfamiliar as he sought to form words, eyes closing as he concentrated on what he knew, what he needed, what he had to do.

Somewhere along the line, he forgot to open them again  


* * *

Just before or Just after --

Dean leant against the counter and smiled at the twenty-something young waitress giving her his most charming smile. She was cute that was for sure in a small town mid-American kind of way, with soft features and the prettiest smile he had ever seen. None of the pretentious looks of a looks and appearance obsessed girl from the larger cities across the country, well for that matter across the world. No Sherry is pretty with gentle curves and long legs that went on forever. With coppery red hair and bright sky-blue eyes and dimples to rival Sam's.

The thought of Sam brought Dean's attention back to the task at hand, what to get for dinner. 'So Sherry what do you suggest?' he drawled out the question enjoying the dainty blush staining her porcelain skin.

'Today's special is really nice, especially if you like a good chilli.' Sherry said her voice slightly breathy, this young stranger's sudden appearance at the café made her day. After a torturous break-up earlier that day, Sherry didn't even want to come to work but now she was so glad she did. She knew that he was a blow-in. Coming in to get a meal and then gone again, just passing through but his obvious charm and flirting helped to heal the long dark welts across her heart. Someone was actually paying her attention, the right kind of attention.

'Chilli?' Dean started to salivate at the thought; he hadn't had a good chilli for a helluva long time. 'You sold me Sherry, I'll get two chillies with all of the trimmings, and umm two serves of fries and eww one salad.' Dean added knowing Sam's preference for something remotely healthy.

'Two serves?' Sherry's smile faded slightly and she went back to her robotic waitress mode of existing at work. He must be married or the significant other, too good to be true.

'Yeah my brother is waiting for me back at the motel.' Dean grinned oblivious to the inner turmoil of his latest potential conquest.

'Oh you have a brother?' Sherry breathed her face reddening even more, 'older or younger?'

'Younger, though he is a bit of a sasquatch,' Dean grinned conspiratorially at Sherry, 'he's mucking around on his computer.'

'Ah I umm have a younger sister, maybe the four of us could hook up sometime?' Sherry asked startling herself; she had never been so forward with a man before. Especially one she had only just met.

'Sounds like a plan ... Sherry,' Dean gave her a wider grin; 'I'm Dean by the way.'

'Hey Dean, so what's your brother's name?'

'Sammy, but he prefers Sam dunno why but he seems to think Sammy sounds like a chubby twelve year old.'

'Sigh I know what it is like with younger siblings, Elizabeth my sister used to get Libby until she decided that Libby sounds like a chubby twelve year old too.'

The two older siblings laughed in a completely conspiratorial and relaxed way, Sherry wrote her number down on one of the napkins she placed in the bag with the rest of the food, 'it's been wonderful meeting you Dean.' She said with a genuine smile.

'Same here Sherry, I hope we'll be in town long enough to get to know you and your sister.' Dean replied replacing his usual lecherous smile with a warm one letting it spread to his sparkling olive-green eyes. 'Catch ya soon, very soon.' He said as he paid for their meals leaving Sherry a nice sized tip he grabbed the bags and headed to the local bottle shop thinking of a cool beer to have with their chilli.

Sherry watched Dean as he got into the impala before going to ring Libby; she had to tell her nerdy little sister about Dean and the possibility of her and Libby hooking up with Dean and his brother Sam.

As Dean put the key into the ignition he stopped fingers hovering, his inner Sam alert sounded. Turning the rumbling engine off again he sat behind the wheel and sighed, perhaps he was just overtired, his hand moved of its own volition to the ignition when he glanced down at his cell phone on the front seat. Chewing his lip, he tried to think of some inane reason of why he was ringing already without Sam thinking that he was being the great overprotective brother again. The last time he did that did not go down very well and another argument ensued. Then again, they were always arguing lately so what difference does it make?

'Dammit Sammy you should know by know to leave your phone on.' Dean growled aloud into the phone after listening to that mechanoid sounding recorded message stating that the cell phone was either out of range or turned off and then Sam's bright and cheery message clicked on. After hitting the end button Dean stared at the inanimate object in his hand, did he really leave that message for his brother? He hadn't realised that he spoke let alone left a message for Sam.

'Good one Dean, now you'll probably walk straight into a Sam diatribe.' Dean grinned then, 'dude you just said diatribe, shame Sam's not here to hear it coz he aint gonna believe ya.' Hitting the speed dial Dean waited for the recorded messages to finish and then left a message that one could vaguely describe as a thinly veiled attempt at an apology.

Turning the volume up on AC/DC's Thunder Struck Dean pulled out of the car park and headed towards the one and only bottle shop in town. His thoughts still drifting to his younger brother, lately Sam seemed to have a knack lately of finding the smallest thing to needle Dean with until he got a snapping response. Maybe he has been with Dean too long and starting to pick up his brother's nasty habits. Nah, that would never happen, he could never see Sam leaning against a counter chatting up a very pretty waitress without a body blush and induced stammer.

The image of Sam covered head to toe in a deep red embarrassed blush and stammering through a conversation with the delectable Sherry sent Dean off in a series of uncontrolled giggles.

Swearing suddenly he swerved to miss the idiot jumping in front of his car, his giggles all gone, swallowed by the curtness of his cussing. Wrenching the wheel to right the car again as the tyres hit gravel. He caught a glimpse of the laughing face in his rear vision mirror before the tree trunk loomed in front of him and he fought to prevent his baby from getting a nasty shiner.

The impala came to a shuddering halt jammed against the tree trunk, splintered wood and bark rained down on the vehicle, the tree listing with pain bent towards the offending man-made weapon but still stayed firm in the life-giving soil. Dean groaned and slowly became aware of a permeating scent of spilt chilli and beer flooding through the interior of his car. His fingers probed the split on his forehead and the warm stickiness dribbling from it.

'Damn it, Sammy?' he looked around expecting to see his lanky-framed brother sprawled across the bench seat. Frowning when he didn't see him Dean tried to remember where he was and where Sam ... no he's back at the motel doing whatever with the computer while Dean went on the food run. Fingers fumbled with the cell phone, it was still intact, but why was there two phones?

Breathe heavy in his bruised chest Dean climbed over the front seat and out of the passenger side door. The world span around him dizzily as he climbed out into the fresh evening air. 'Sammy!' he yelled as he tried to work out where he was, this was not the road to the motel. 'Sammy!'

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Supernatural – Broken

Disclaimer: Nothing new, just the usual I love to hurt, torture, kiss and caress the guys before I send em back.

Author's Note: Just a quick warning!! There is swearing and graphic images towards the end of the chapter, you have been warned!!

An Adaptation: from Sade Lyrate's Broken, Chapter 53 of Shards, Shreds, Scraps.

He tried to ignore the burn in his back, and-

_don'tthinkaboutthat_

His legs wouldn't cooperate, his whole body ached, his cell could have been on the Moon instead of mere feet away.

The afterimage of a supernova flared within his skull as he crawled, the gravel biting into the palm of his left hand. A move, another, the pain aggravated by each pull. Short bursts of breath, his head swimming, the siren song of sleep ever stronger.

The familiar form under his fingers sent a quick praise tumbling through his sluggish mind, past bruised lips.

He flopped against the wall on his side, teeth clenching at the spikes the tiles' roughness drove into his nerves, hand clutching the little device like the straw it was. A deep breath, sea urchins within his lungs, and he flipped open the cell, slick fingers slipping over the speed dial.

"This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency-"

_No._

He sucked in a breath that felt too much like a sob, waited for the recorded message to play out. Prayed Dean'd _pick up the damn phone!_  
Unmistakable beep, mocking him just like his body, lips unfamiliar as he sought to form words, eyes closing as he concentrated on what he knew, what he needed, what he had to do.

Somewhere along the line, he forgot to open them again.

* * *

Time is fleeting... 

Sam stirred slowly not wanting to give up the veil of darkness just yet. It hurt too much to allow his mind and body to wake up.

Harsh breathing sounded catching him by surprise, it was his own feeble attempt at drawing oxygen into his lungs. With one shaking arm under him, he gradually lifted his upper body off the floor trying to gauge exactly where he was. The gravel and dirt floor gone, now he lay on wood. Dirty, scuffed, splintered, and stained wood. 'Dean?' the name fell from his lips as naturally as his breath scorching his lungs.

'Nope no Dean here but I am boy.' A familiar voice rang in Sam's ears sending shivers down his spine.

'No, no you're dead.' Sam muttered refusing to look in the direction of that voice.

'Ah you wound me Sammy.'

'Why are you doing this? Why not just kill me and get it over with?'

'Now where is the fun in that?'

Well I'm getting kinda bored just lying around and thought that it might speed things up.'

'Nah got too much to do, and too much time to worry about, you might say Sammy that we have eternity.'

'It's Sam not Sammy.' Sam corrected his father's impersonator. 'You know you don't know my Dad very well do you?' Sam said with a laugh filled with bubbling fluid. Bright dots of red sprayed from his mouth as the laughing turned into choking coughs.

'Oh I know your father very well, he's what you might call a special case for me to work on err I mean with.'

'So what we just gonna sit around and talk me to death?' Sam leaned back against the wall and rested for a moment, closing his eyes, he tried to calm himself down and ignore anyone else around him.

He let his mind wander, to another time, another place ... Halloween night and a party at College, she looked so sexy in her white nurse's uniform, and those stockings, a small smile tugged on his lips as he remembered every detail down to her sexy little pout. Her gentle hands roaming over his body, whispering in his ear. She loved him unconditionally, and freely. 'Jess.' He sighed as he fixed her image in his mind, locking himself away from the world around him; he found a safe niche in his mind, safe and warm.

* * *

Dean stumbled back to the impala and sank down in the passenger's seat; leaving his legs out of the car he ran his fingers through his untidy hair and down his face. He felt bone weary, pulling out his phone he stared at it as though it was some sort of alien machinery before he pressed the speed dial praying that Sammy was going to be on the other end of the line. 

Hollowly he noticed that he had a missed call from Sam how could he have missed the call? 'Ah Sherry ... was she in on this too? On what Dean get a grip dude you're losing it.' Dean growled at himself aloud, his voice echoing in the night air.

Heaving a sigh Dean slid over to the driver's side and tried to start the car, after two attempts the impala purred to life under him, carefully so he didn't do anymore damage to the baby he manoeuvred the car away from the offending vegetation and pulled back onto the road. Intending on driving back the way he came, in his haste earlier he must have taken the wrong turn off to the motel.

'Turn right and keep driving,' a cold and menacing voice sounded against his ear, 'do anything and baby bro is dead and buried.'

'Where is he? What have you done with Sam?'

'Nothing yet why do you want us to?' the retort came followed by a cuff on the back of his head.

Dean swore and righted the car again, 'Dude do that again and we'll crash.'

'Drive until I tell you stop.' The order came before Dean finished speaking. 'Don't be a hero Winchester.'

Dean glanced at the rear vision mirror trying to make out the face of his uninvited passenger, but all he could see was the outline of an exaggerated smile, 'another clown dude. Fuck Sammy is gonna love this.' He thought to himself with a snarl curling his upper lip. 'So what's ya name? I mean you obviously know mine, aint it just common courtesy to tell the driver your name?'

'Call me Cyril.' The masked intruder snapped back, 'turn into that warehouse to the left.'

'No probs ... so Cyril you from around here?' Dean asked acting like a taxi driver, 'I can take you on a tour of the local hotspots if you like.'

'Shut up and drive will ya.' Cyril snapped, 'time is not on Sam's side you might say.'

'Why the freaking hell didn't you say so in the first place?' Dean snapped back pressing his foot on the accelerator.

When he pulled up and turned the ignition off Dean sat back in his seat and exhaled slowly, he had to get his bearings and keep one step ahead of Cyril at least until he knew the lay of the building and exactly what they have done to Sam.

Before he could leave the car however, Cyril leant over the bench seat and without a word of warning slipped a thick and heavy black hood over Dean's head, encasing him in silent darkness. 'What the fu...?' the question went unfinished his words muffled and unintelligible.

Hands dragged him out of the car and forced him to his knees, this is it, no Sammy, no one just Dean and his executioners.

He felt his arms pulled behind him, elbows straight and muscles taunt as thick ropes knotted his arms together, another rope slid over his head and settled around his neck sealing the hood as well. He could feel his heart thudding against his chest as he waited for the death blow or shot to come.

A sudden jerking sensation startled Dean and he fought the rising bile, pulled upwards his knees locked and refused to straighten out for a few seconds, and then he was able to try to stand unaided until someone yanked on the rope again and he was forced to stumble behind them.

Their laughter at his difficulty in keeping up with the long strides and the stairs fuelled Dean's rage; they were so going to pay for each and every giggle. The worst was their undisguised attempts at treating him like an animal on a lead, the humiliation only serving though to strengthen him not weaken him at all.

Breathing heavily Dean managed to climb to his feet after the last stumble sent him flying face forward, a booted foot on his spine pressed him down for a few minutes, cutting off the last of his meagre oxygen supplies.

Sam watched them torment his brother unmercifully, he wanted to scream out to Dean but they fastened a thick gag over his mouth and made sure that his hands and feet were well secure. Lying on his side, Sam felt weak and sick as they ignored his gunshot wound and instead used Dean's pain to torment Sam to the 'enth degree'.

'Take the hood off.' The one using John Winchester's voice ordered, 'let him have a good look.' Cyril reached down and roughly yanked the hood off Dean's head, leaving the rope cutting into his throat. The sudden brightness momentarily blinded Dean and he shook his head, regretting the action immediately as pain flared up his bruised back. 'Sammy?' he whispered hoarsely as he focused on his younger brother.

Sam stared mutely at Dean's face, trying to gauge the extent of pain he was in, scouring him with his gaze for any signs of life-threatening injuries.

'What have you done to my brother you freak?' Dean yelled as he saw the pain on Sam's face, the rigidness of his body and the pooling red liquid beneath him soaking into the wood.

'Nothing yet, I can do more if you wish.'

'Untie me and make it a fair fight.' Dean said refusing to take his eyes from Sam.

'Now where would the fun in that be?' the possessed creature glided over to Dean and squatted down in front of him, reaching out he brushed an imaginary stray hair from Dean's face, the creature may have worn John's face, but the eyes were dead. 'So son I see that you never carried out my last order did you.'

'Get fucked.' Dean spat at the jeering face, 'you're not my father.'

'Sigh what is a father to do with such disrespectful sons?' It mocked the brothers, 'I try so hard and still you show me no respect.' Standing up it smiled coldly at Dean and then gripping the rope dragged Dean closer to Sam, 'see what happens when I am disrespected.'

Dean watched in horror as the demon grabbed hold of Sam and rolled him until he lay face down, then stripping away the last vestiges of dignity for his young captive he pushed his fingers deep into Sam's body, the original small bullet hole ripped open under the assault. Sam screamed against the gag, his neck arched and head thrown back as the intruding fingers bruised his internal organs, callously probing as far as possible until the nails scraped against bone. Tears fell onto the floor mingling with the fresh dark red blood as Sam slid into the world of the void. Unable to manage to maintain the level of pain and to keep his sanity at the sametime.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Supernatural – Broken

Disclaimer: Nothing new, just the usual I love to hurt, torture, kiss and caress the guys before I send em back.

An Adaptation: from Sade Lyrate's Broken, Chapter 53 of Shards, Shreds, Scraps.

He tried to ignore the burn in his back, and-

_don'tthinkaboutthat_

His legs wouldn't cooperate, his whole body ached, his cell could have been on the Moon instead of mere feet away.

The afterimage of a supernova flared within his skull as he crawled, the gravel biting into the palm of his left hand. A move, another, the pain aggravated by each pull. Short bursts of breath, his head swimming, the siren song of sleep ever stronger.

The familiar form under his fingers sent a quick praise tumbling through his sluggish mind, past bruised lips.

He flopped against the wall on his side, teeth clenching at the spikes the tiles' roughness drove into his nerves, hand clutching the little device like the straw it was. A deep breath, sea urchins within his lungs, and he flipped open the cell, slick fingers slipping over the speed dial.

"This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency-"

_No._

He sucked in a breath that felt too much like a sob, waited for the recorded message to play out. Prayed Dean'd _pick up the damn phone!_  
Unmistakable beep, mocking him just like his body, lips unfamiliar as he sought to form words, eyes closing as he concentrated on what he knew, what he needed, what he had to do.

Somewhere along the line, he forgot to open them again.

* * *

Time as fluid as water, stops for no man...

Dean pulled against the ropes, relishing in the pain flaring around his wrists, fuelling his rage against their demonic captors. 'Let Sam alone.' He said in a low even voice, each word enunciated perfectly.

'Why what are you going to do?' the creature wearing John Winchester's face smirked at Dean, enjoying the despair he was showing, the addiction was intoxicating to say the least.

'Sammy?' Dean cried out ignoring the teasing for a moment, his gaze fixed on Sam's pale face, 'dammit he's not breathing!'

'Oh he is still alive, but you see I hold his fragile grip on life in my hands. One snap of my fingers and his soul will be lost in the ethers and his corpse rotting at your feet.'

'What the fuck are you talking about?' Dean demanded still refusing to take his gaze away from Sam, terrified if he breaks the contact then Sam will be lost to him forever.

'Language son, really you should show more respect for your elders.'

'Oh that's nothing, I can really let fly if you want me too.'

'Take them to the prepared room, leave the medical supplies for them and the food.' The demon ordered one of his lackeys, ignoring the curious look on Dean's face when he did steal a glance at their latest abductor.

'Gee don't go doing anything special for us,' Dean quipped, 'I mean we can always go and get take out.'

'Take them, make sure that they are both breathing at sunrise.'

'Yes my Lord.' The slave said, it's sibilant voice grating on Dean's already frayed nerves. Cyril and his cohorts picked Dean and Sam up silently carrying them out of the room and into the prepared chambers. The demon watched them carry the two brothers away a smile forming on the craggy features of the assumed identity. 'Soon, soon they will find out exactly what it is like to cross me and mine.' It gloated, 'come here.' It waved a hand at a young female cowering in the corner; slowly she sashayed towards it unable to resist its call. 'Come to me you delicious little morsel.'

With hesitant steps, she moved closer to it, baring her neck to it as she stopped in front of him, eyes dull and devoid of life, she offered her body with the last shreds of her dignity and self-respect gone.

Twisting its fingers in her hair, it pulled her head back and exposed a clean line of her neck, rearing its head back, long fangs protruded from the upper jaw, glistening with fresh saliva plunging into the soft skin.

Dean shuddered as the pitiful screams stopped suddenly; slowly he stood up and stretched his bruised back he had to focus on Sammy. Gingerly he moved over to the bed and sat on the edge, next to Sam's hip. Steeling a glance at his still unconscious brother's face Dean lifted the remnants of Sam's shirt and inspected the bullet wound. The charred flesh around the hole already taking on a red hue of something more insidious, the thin tentacles spreading out over the pale flesh. 'Sorry Sammy,' he whispered as he rolled his brother over onto his side, not wanting to see the mess of his back. 'Fuck Sammy,' Dean breathed when he saw the new injuries mingling with the older. The hole no longer small and neat, crusted with cauterised flesh, now it is ripped apart, exposing muscles, organs, and bone. Long scratches decorated every surface visible. How Sam survived, it was beyond Dean's comprehension. 'Man you need a hospital.' He whispered fretting that Sam still hadn't stirred.

He quickly cleaned the wound as best as he could, mindful of not touching anything as he moved with the swabs. Then he hunted through the well-stocked medical emergency kit, with bandages, suturing equipment, and medications. He managed to suture both of the bullet wounds; the entry wound was simple enough to stitch, but when he returned to the back one, he rushed to the bathroom and threw up his meagre contents, his back hurt like hell with the violence of his retching.

'Dean?' Sam's soft whisper permeated his fear filled thoughts, silencing the ringing filling his ears. Stumbling out he made his way back to Sam's bedside, swaying unsteadily as he moved.

'Hey Sammy how ya feeling?' he asked, worried that now Sam was going to be awake for his stitching his back.

'Like I was on the wrong end of a train wreck,' Sam managed a small smile. 'I – I tried to ...'

'Sam I don't know how it happened, but I missed your call.' Dean cut in, his guilt weighing on him.

'Hey Dean, it's okay I have a feeling that it was all planned.' Sam gripped Dean's hand as a wave of pain washed through him, taking him by surprise.

'Sammy?'

'Sam, Dean it's Sam.'

'Yeah okay Sammmmy,' Dean grinned but then the grin vanished and he turned grim eyes to his brother's back, 'dude it's a mess.'

'Figured that.'

'I have to stitch it but ... he's done more damage...'

'It's okay Dean just do it.'

'There's some killer painkillers... pardon the pun...' Dean smiled slightly trying to take the edge of the situation.

'Nothing too strong Dean, I can't bomb out and leave you unprotected.' Sam insisted, 'promise me Dean.'

'Promise Sam, now what colour do you want, blue, pink, or white?'

'Blue,' Sam grinned trusting his brother to keep his promise, settling back down on the pillows he watched Dean move around to prepare to fix his back. His thoughts started to float, taking him back to their childhood and Dean's way out ideas to keep Sam occupied when their Dad locked them in while he went hunting. The puppet shows were the best, socks became their Dad and the monsters, blood thirsty and violent and wonderful stories that kept Sam going when he couldn't sleep without nightmares. Giggling to sleep instead was much more fun.

'Hey Sammy you still with me?' Dean asked tenderly touching his brother's shoulder.

'Huh? Yeah ... mm okay.' Sam slurred his words slightly, the blood loss evident in the way he looked and acted.

'Come on Sammy don't give up on me now.' Dean whispered as he hurried the task of sealing his brother's back.

'Hey Dean what about some more sock puppets?' Sam giggled as the painkillers took control over him.

'Sock puppets?' Dean blinked trying to work out what Sam was talking about when the memory came back. 'When I'm finished dude we might be able to get old John and the werewolf out of retirement.'

'Cool.' Sam's eyes started to droop sleepily, 'Dean?'

'Yeah Sammy?'

'I love you dude.'

'Love you too Sammy, now lie still and let me fix your back okay.'

'Owkay.' Sam agreed as sleep finally claimed its next victim taking Sam to a dreamless state almost immediately.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Supernatural – Broken

Disclaimer: Nothing new, just the usual I love to hurt, torture, kiss and caress the guys before I send em back.

**Author's Note: My most heartfelt apologies to those of you who took the time to review and I didn't get a chance to respond in person, I had a real life emergency this week and got side-tracked big time, so a big hug and apology to all of you!!!**

**(((((((((((HUGS))))))))))))))**

------

An Adaptation: from Sade Lyrate's Broken, Chapter 53 of Shards, Shreds, Scraps.

He tried to ignore the burn in his back, and-

_don'tthinkaboutthat_

His legs wouldn't cooperate, his whole body ached, his cell could have been on the Moon instead of mere feet away.

The afterimage of a supernova flared within his skull as he crawled, the gravel biting into the palm of his left hand. A move, another, the pain aggravated by each pull. Short bursts of breath, his head swimming, the siren song of sleep ever stronger.

The familiar form under his fingers sent a quick praise tumbling through his sluggish mind, past bruised lips.

He flopped against the wall on his side, teeth clenching at the spikes the tiles' roughness drove into his nerves, hand clutching the little device like the straw it was. A deep breath, sea urchins within his lungs, and he flipped open the cell, slick fingers slipping over the speed dial.

"This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency-"

_No._

He sucked in a breath that felt too much like a sob, waited for the recorded message to play out. Prayed Dean'd _pick up the damn phone!_  
Unmistakable beep, mocking him just like his body, lips unfamiliar as he sought to form words, eyes closing as he concentrated on what he knew, what he needed, what he had to do.

Somewhere along the line, he forgot to open them again.

* * *

Time, will escape no matter how fast you are...

'Dean?' Sam asked yawning widely.

'Yeah Sam what is it?'

'Nothing just checking to make sure that you're really here.' Sam muffled, another yawn sneaking through.

'Always Sammy.' Dean replied running a hand over Sam's forehead, 'just sleep.'

'Not tired.' Sam said through another yawn, 'why's Dad doing this?'

'Whatcha mean Sam?' Dean asked frowning, not to sure where his brother's mind was.

'Why's he hurting us Dean? We been bad?' Sam mumbled as his eyes slid closed and his breathing evened out.

'Damn it Sam.' Dean cried out frustrated at their situation and how easily they fell into the trap. Neither of them were back on top of their game and now, now, Sam had a gaping hole in his body caused by a creature wearing John Winchester's face.

Scrubbing his hands over his face to wipe away the cobwebs of sleep and fear and checked Sam's back. Thankfully there was no sign of any major infection but it was still probably too early to tell if it starting deep in the tissue and muscle where the bastard demon raked his filthy claws.

'Time to wakey wakey.' Cyril hissed as he opened the door and hovered over the two brothers. 'Get him up and awake, the Master wants to see you.'

'Hey can I ask you something?' Dean grinned coldly, 'why the freaking hell do you guys always call 'em either Master or Father? How come you don't call 'em Bruce or Phil?'

Cyril hissed and snaked a taloned claw out catching Dean's cheek, 'you will show respect human, you are nothing but food here.'

'Yeah well I've been known to make people choke.' Dean shot back pressing a hand to his sliced up cheek.

'Dean?' Sam stirred and blinked up at his older brother, his face paling even more if that was humanly possible when he saw the blood on Dean's face. 'What happened?'

'Get up the Master is waiting.' Cyril hissed before disappearing through the door, locking it loudly behind him.

Dean let out his breath and dropped to his knees cradling his flaming and bleeding cheek. 'This is so fucked.'

'Dean show me.' Sam said ignoring his own body despite the constant reminders that it hurt and demanded attention. Dean was hurt and that overrode anything his body demanded of him. Letting out a hiss of breath Dean lowered his hand giving Sam access to his face. 'Ah Dean I am so sorry, this is all ...'

'Don't say it Sammy. It's not your fault.' Dean said laying a bloody hand on Sam's shoulder to make sure he held his brother's attention, 'we both were suckered Sammy.'

'I have to stitch a couple of them Dean.' Sam said shaking his head slightly.

'Do it Sam I'll be fine,' Dean said hesitantly.

Sam held his breath as he stood; the sea urchins woke in his lungs and forced him to exhale before he was upright. Swaying drunkenly, he could only manage a step before the movement ignited the fuse and caused a pain explosion throughout his body, his back covered in internal flames that licked at each nerve ending sending sparks and embers through his extremities. 'Dean?' he cried out as bubbles of pink foam smeared across his lips, his body now ignoring his wants and needs imploded sending him tumbling to his knees. Striking his head on the corner of the bed Sam crumpled forward, one hand stretched out towards his brother as his eyesight failed and the darkness prevailed.

'Sammy.' Dean cried out rushing to his brother's side, gently rolling him onto his side he checked his airways and pulse and then sat back on his haunches unable to process what had just happened.

'What is going on?' A deep gruff voice broke through Dean's numbness sending the pain signals flooding through his body, choking him.

'Why do you have to wear that face?' Dean asked without looking up.

'Coz I like it,' came the curt reply, 'why have you not come when I summoned the two of you ... I do not tolerate disobedience even from my sons.'

'We are not your sons.' Dean ground out each word as he turned his head to face his tormentor. 'Sam's dying.'

'What do you mean dying?' the demon's eyes flickered with fear and confusion before becoming solid black discs once again.

'I mean that his is bleeding internally, your little playtime inside Sam's bullet wound is killing him.'

'Get him up.'

'I can't!'

'What did you do to your face?'

'Oh Cyril thought that I was too good looking.' Dean tossed the comment at him, 'now leave us alone.'

'Get Samuel up.'

'I can't!' Dean said deliberately turning his back to the demon tired of playing the verbal game. 'He is bleeding internally, look at him, at the blood on his lips, look at him and at your handiwork.'

The demon shoved Dean out of the way and stared down at the younger brother, fluid filled gasps rattled from Sam's chest. 'What is wrong with his breathing?'

'When you decided to play with Sam's internal organs you probably nicked his lung in the process.'

The demon snarled and turned on Dean, 'I would be careful with what comes out of your mouth if I were you Son.'

'You are not my father.' Dean shot back, unable to curb his anger any longer. 'Can you help Sam or not?'

'If I do so ... what will you do for me?' the demon asked changing tact in mid-sentence.

'What the freaking hell do you mean by that?'

'I will save Samuel but there will be conditions.'

'Always with the blackmail and conditions, what is it this time? You want my first-born son ... or ... oh yeah you want me to become a warrior in your unholy war or, or perhaps you want me to talk Sam into staying with you.'

'Suffice it to say, if I save your brother's life then you will owe me, and I will collect at the appropriate time.'

'What the fuck does that mean?'

'It means that you will not know what I want until I collect the debt from you. This is a time limited offer Dean the clock is ticking.'

Dean glared at the demonic face of his father and then turned his gaze down to Sam, his heart skipping beats as he looked back up at the demon. 'Do it.'

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Supernatural – Broken

Disclaimer: Nothing new, just the usual I love to hurt, torture, kiss and caress the guys before I send em back.

------

An Adaptation: from Sade Lyrate's Broken, Chapter 53 of Shards, Shreds, Scraps.

-----

He tried to ignore the burn in his back, and-

_don'tthinkaboutthat_

His legs wouldn't cooperate, his whole body ached, his cell could have been on the Moon instead of mere feet away.

The afterimage of a supernova flared within his skull as he crawled, the gravel biting into the palm of his left hand. A move, another, the pain aggravated by each pull. Short bursts of breath, his head swimming, the siren song of sleep ever stronger.

The familiar form under his fingers sent a quick praise tumbling through his sluggish mind, past bruised lips.

He flopped against the wall on his side, teeth clenching at the spikes the tiles' roughness drove into his nerves, hand clutching the little device like the straw it was. A deep breath, sea urchins within his lungs, and he flipped open the cell, slick fingers slipping over the speed dial.

"This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency-"

_No._

He sucked in a breath that felt too much like a sob, waited for the recorded message to play out. Prayed Dean'd _pick up the damn phone!_  
Unmistakable beep, mocking him just like his body, lips unfamiliar as he sought to form words, eyes closing as he concentrated on what he knew, what he needed, what he had to do.

Somewhere along the line, he forgot to open them again.

* * *

With each heartbeat, another second of time passes...

Sam moaned and tried to push the cobwebs away from his face, he felt the stickiness of the cocoon of webs covering his body. His breath caught in his throat and he tried to clear his mind, calm himself down and to try to work out where he was. Was he anywhere at all?

'Dean?' He could hear his own voice clearly in his head, but his throat remained frozen unable to expel any sound at all. 'Dean.' Panic rose in his chest fighting for equal footing in his lungs with the multitude of micro-organisms and sea urchins for domination of his lungs. He could hear the gurgling of blood loose in his body, 'damn is this dying? It is so fucked, Dean please help me.'

_Eyes wide open, blinking furiously he tried to focus on his surroundings, but all he could see was a milky whiteness, as the fogginess cleared his saw Dean's body lying atop of an altar. His face to the side, eyes open, but dead, eviscerated from sternum to groin, his internal organs exposed, still glistening and wet but where his heart once beat proudly a gapping wound. Laughter filled the silence echoing through the empty alcove, patterns etched in blood decorated the walls surrounding the altar, dripping carelessly to the floor distorting images so carefully placed and drawn in perfect detail. Flashes of light turning the milky whiteness to thick crimson fog, staining pale skin on contact. _

Convulsive jerking brought awareness instantly and Sam screamed hoarsely hands flailing in the air, a warm hand gripped his calming him instantly. He blinked and turned his head slowly, allowing his eyes to refocus this time without hindrance.

'Hey Sammy calm down its okay,' Dean soothed his traumatised younger brother; he gently stroked Sam's forehead and cheek in feather-light movements. 'You're going to be fine.'

'Dean?' Sam whispered gripping Dean's fingers tightly squeezing, 'not a trick?'

'No Dude fingers you're gonna wreck my driving hand.' Dean tried to prise his hand from the vice like grip surrounding it.

'Where?'

'Still at Hotel De Demon,' Dean said with a wry grin, 'it's good to see you awake finally Sammy; I thought that you might sleep your life away.'

'My side?' Sam frowned his fingers moving over the now healed bullet wound.

'Ah fixed.' Dean said his grin slipping slightly.

Sam's fingers moved to Dean's face and gently ghosted the tips over his cheek, 'you're face?'

'It's okay Sammy, I'm fine.'

'Dean please tell me.' Sam gasped out as he tried to ease himself up slightly, 'hurts to breath.'

'Okay Dude here we go.' Dean said as he slipped his arms under Sam's arms and guided him upright, 'better?'

'Yeah, thanks.' Sam mumbled exhaling as struggled to get his control of breathing back to where he wanted it. 'Dean what happened?'

'Seems like Demonic Daddy Dearest was a wee bit upset when he came in and saw you dying all over the place and well when he saw my face ... _my _face ... all sliced up he kinda fixed us.'

'Fixed us?' Sam blinked and stared at his brother, sea-green eyes staring deep into olive-green eyes, holding the essence of time in that one brief second.

'Yeah not too sure what he did but one minute you were ready to go wherever it is you go to and me with my face all ripped to pieces, _my_ face Sammy.'

'What did he want in return?' Sam demanded, like a dog worrying on a bone he was not going to let it go until he chewed over every miniscule part of it. 'Talk to me Dean.'

'Deal.' Dean coughed as he stood and turned his back on Sam, pretending to busy himself making a coffee. 'Freaking instant coffee Dude, the bastard can't even give us real coffee.'

'Instant's fine Dean, what do you mean a deal?'

'Dunno.'

'Dean.'

'Honestly I dunno.'

'Talk to me dude, you're starting to worry me.'

Dean heaved a sigh and turned to face Sam, 'like I said Sammy I don't know, he made me agree to a deal but won't tell me what it is, just that he will collect one day.'

'Dean! Why?'

'Coz I was not going to lose you Sam.' Dean said voice thick with emotion, he turned back to finish their coffees. 'I am not going to lose anyone else.' He muttered more to himself than to Sam.

'But how can you agree to a deal that you have no idea what it is for? That's suicide Dean.'

'I did what I had to Sam,' Dean growled, 'and ya know what? I would do it over again and again if it meant that I could have you here with me arguing your freaky head off.'

'Thanks.' Sam said simply dropping his gaze.

Dean opened his mouth to keep arguing when he realised what Sam had said, 'Sammy you okay?'

'Yeah just tired I guess,' Sam mumbled now unable to meet Dean's gaze.

'Coffee.' Dean muttered pressing the mug in Sam's hand before sitting on the edge of the narrow bed own drink in hand. 'So Sammy what's going on in that freaky head of yours?'

'What? What do you mean?' Sam spluttered as he sipped his coffee.

'You were acting like you ... you had a vision didn't you?' Dean asked his brows bunching together in worry lines, 'Sam what's wrong?'

'You called me Sam!' Sam blinked back mock tears. 'Oh Dean!'

'Quit the crap and the stalling, talk Sammmmy!'

'Yeah okay I had a weird vision.'

'Hate to break it to you Dude but nearly all of your visions are weird.'

'Yeah well this one as about you.' Sam hissed out the words before he could stop himself, instantly regretting it when he saw Dean freeze in the act of sipping his coffee. His dark green eyes turned a dark almost black forest green as he regarded Sam's face with an even glare. Unsure whether to feel relief or absolute terror. 'So, was she beautiful?'

'There were no she's Dean.'

'Oh no, no, no don't tell me...'

'No Dean you were the only one in the vision.' Sam said with a small smile playing on his lips. Dean heaved a sigh of relief and finished sipping his coffee.

'So Sam whatcha see?'

'You were ah ... lying on some sort of an altar.' Sam faltered over his words unsure of how much to tell Dean.

'And? Damn Sam it's like pulling teeth with you, just tell me so we can stop it from happening.'

'You were lying on an altar, someone slit you open from the top of your ribs to your groin, exposing everything, and they had removed your heart.' Sam took a shaking fluid-filled breath, 'on the walls surrounding the altar there were symbols in blood.'

'Anyone else?'

'Nope just your body.'

'Fuck.'

'Dean do you think that it has something to do with the deal you made?' Sam asked fear replacing the confusion in him.

'Dunno Dude but I think we had better get things back to our way before it all goes south ... I am rather attached to my heart.'

'Yeah well it wasn't that pretty Dean seeing you with all of your inner bits showing.' Sam wrinkled his nose and concentrated on his drink for a few elongated seconds. 'Dean?'

'Yeah?'

'Why Dad?' Sam rolled his eyes to meet Dean's enquiring gaze, 'I mean why choose Dad's face over anyone else's? Why does it have to be Dad all of the time?'

'Dunno, maybe it's just that they are too stupid to be able to conjure anyone else, that Dad is the only one they can copy coz he's the one that they know.' Dean shrugged, 'or maybe it's just coz they love screwing with our heads.'

'I think that's the reason why.' Sam agreed, 'I'm sorry Dean.'

'What for now Sam? Or is this just a blanket apology for your future mucking up?'

'I'm sorry for fucking up Dean.' Sam whispered suddenly concentrating on a tiny spider weaving a new web in the corner of the room, 'if I hadn't panicked and thought things through I would have realised that it wasn't you in the first place.'

'Dude stop we got lured and snared that's it, no one is to blame here, well except for one fugly dude who won't show his true face.'

'Now is that anyway to speak of your father?' the familiar baritone voice startled the brothers as the demon version of their father appeared. 'I thought you boys loved me.' he sighed dramatically.

'Yeah well anyone who knows our Dad would know that he doesn't carry on and talk like that.' Dean said placing himself between the demon and Sam. 'So what now? Come to collect?'

'Nope not yet, just visiting my precious sons to see how they are healing.'

'We're fine now if you don't mind...' Dean's voice faded before he could finish his retort as a gag appeared across his mouth sealing it closed. With a wave of his fingers the demon lifted the older brother up and left him literally hanging in the air. 'Now Sam I think it is time we talk.'

'Let Dean go now.' Sam growled out, 'let him go or we don't do anything.'

'You boys truly want to vex me don't you.' The demon sighed dramatically waving his hand he sent Dean plummeting to the floor, winded and in pain Dean lay where he landed. 'Happy now?'

'What do you want?'

'Why do you two want to know everything?' the demon pouted, 'oh alright, the usual things, world domination, revenge, power, the two of you my puppets.' He ticked them off his fingers as he listed them. 'To begin with that is.'

'What do you want with us?' Sam asked unable to pull his gaze away from his fallen brother he failed to see what the demon was doing in front of him.

Sam gasped and cried out, 'Dean?' reaching out he tried to touch Dean when his brother disappeared. 'No! Dean!'

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Supernatural – Broken

Disclaimer: Nothing new, just the usual I love to hurt, torture, kiss and caress the guys before I send em back.

------

An Adaptation: from Sade Lyrate's Broken, Chapter 53 of Shards, Shreds, Scraps.

-----

He tried to ignore the burn in his back, and-

_don'tthinkaboutthat_

His legs wouldn't cooperate, his whole body ached, his cell could have been on the Moon instead of mere feet away.

The afterimage of a supernova flared within his skull as he crawled, the gravel biting into the palm of his left hand. A move, another, the pain aggravated by each pull. Short bursts of breath, his head swimming, the siren song of sleep ever stronger.

The familiar form under his fingers sent a quick praise tumbling through his sluggish mind, past bruised lips.

He flopped against the wall on his side, teeth clenching at the spikes the tiles' roughness drove into his nerves, hand clutching the little device like the straw it was. A deep breath, sea urchins within his lungs, and he flipped open the cell, slick fingers slipping over the speed dial.

"This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency-"

_No._

He sucked in a breath that felt too much like a sob, waited for the recorded message to play out. Prayed Dean'd _pick up the damn phone!_  
Unmistakable beep, mocking him just like his body, lips unfamiliar as he sought to form words, eyes closing as he concentrated on what he knew, what he needed, what he had to do.

Somewhere along the line, he forgot to open them again.

---------------------

Time is an illusion, where nothing is real...

Sam turned to face the demon wearing John Winchester's face, 'where have you taken him?'

'We need to talk Samuel and I am afraid that your big brother was too much of a distraction for you.'

'Where is he?' Sam demanded again.

'Calm down and talk to me and then if you are really good I will return your brother to you, if he means that much.'

'Fuck you.'

'Ooohh now there's a thought.' The demon licked its lips, lasciviously staring down at Sam, 'get up boy and sit on the bed.' But before Sam could answer him the demon flicked his wrist and suddenly Sam felt himself moving, and dropping unceremoniously onto the bed, the jolt causing him to start coughing. The bullet wound may have been healed, but the effects of the shot remained, including the injury to Sam's lung.

'That wasn't very nice.' Sam wheezed trying to regain his breath yet again.

'I don't feel like playing nice,' the demon pouted, 'so here's the thing, I did make a deal with Dean but I am willing to forgo on it if you do something for me.'

'Which is?'

'Well aside from the obvious I want you to perform a few little tricks for me if you can prove your worth then I will relinquish Dean from his vow.'

'And if I don't?'

'Hmm you do remember your vision don't you?'

'What do you know of that?'

'I know everything that goes on around here Samuel, now time is ticking...'

'How do I know that you will keep your word? You haven't done a particularly great job of it so far.'

'Touché, however I will give you ... certain assurances... if you agree to my terms.'

'Bring Dean back now; I want him to hear this.' Sam demanded, 'before we go any further with the discussion.'

'Hmm, you are a little bossy boots aren't you Sammy boy.' The demon sneered at him, and for a split second, Sam saw the façade start to slip on the creature's face.' _It must be taking a helluva lot of energy to keep the pretence up, using dad's body, and face. At least it's not a possession_.' Sam thought as he waited for the demon to make his mind up.

With a furious hiss, the demon waved his hand and Dean reappeared on the floor at Sam's feet. 'Dean?' Sam whispered dropping awkwardly to his knees next to his brother's prone body.

Dean lay quietly staring up at Sam with wide open but empty eyes. 'What have you done to him?' Sam asked gently stroking his brother's face; Dean moved his head slightly pressing against the contact with Sam's hand.

'Nothing that an agreement won't fix.' The demon smirked, but again the face started to flicker and slide away for the briefest second Sam caught a glimpse of what lay beneath the mask. 'So I will leave you to alone ... to get hmm reacquainted. I will be back in fifteen minutes for your decision Samuel.'

'What exactly do you want me to do?' Sam sighed cradling Dean closer to him.

'Just perform a couple of simple feats, prove to me why you are so ... valuable.'

'Believe me it's all hype I have no value whatsoever.' Sam said with as much conviction as he could muster. His breath rattled wetly in his lungs, his head hurt and eyes stung. He could no more perform than fly.

'We shall see Samuel Winchester, we shall see.' The demon chuckled before vanishing, not even bothering to use the door and to keep up the charade.

'Dean?' Sam turned his attention straight back to his older brother. 'Dean hey man talk to me.'

Dean stared blankly up at Sam, he felt the love and trust emanating from the younger man, but he was so confused. Was Dean his name? What happened to him? He did know however, that he craved the younger man's touch, deriving strength from it.

'Damn Dean what did he do to you?' Sam muttered helping his brother to stand, wearily swaying as dizziness struck. Lurching forward Sam fell into Dean's arms, the two of them falling in a tangled heap on the bed.

'So this is awkward.' Sam sighed as he carefully extricated himself from Dean and flopped on the bed next to him. Dean panicked as soon as the contact was lost and turned to search for Sam. His hand immediately reaching out to clutch at his brother. Sam frowned and stared at Dean, unsure of what to do, his brother was shaking with fear, silent and lost. 'Dean it's okay.' Sam whispered gathering the older man into his arms and holding him as close as possible. He felt Dean bunch his fist into the waist band of his pants.

'Hey, hey its okay Dean, it's gonna be okay.' Sam soothed him, as a coughing fit assailed him; desperately he tried to catch his breath and to keep Dean from panicking even more.

Weakly he slumped back on the bed, the coughs becoming less harsh but took their toll on Sam's stamina. Tiny spots of blood covered his lips and hands, making him feel worse. The hole may be gone but the damaged already done to his lungs was now beyond a surface healing.

'S-Sam hurt?' Dean whispered tentatively reaching out to touch Sam's cheek with his free hand.

'Be okay ... in a minute.' Sam panted, 'just need to get ... my breath.' He wheezed, another stab of guilt mixed with worry filled him when he looked at the innocent trusting look on Dean's face.

'S-Sam hurt,' Dean repeated his anger rising uncontrollably in him, 'Sammy hurt.' He cried again, his cries raw and primal. He didn't understand the rage he felt or why, just that the one whose strength keeps him warm and keeps him going is hurting.

'Hey Dean its okay, I'm okay.' Sam sat up and tried to soothe his older sibling, 'look at me dude.' He cupped his hands around Dean's face and forced him to calm down and meet gazes. 'I'm okay, we're gonna be okay.'

'Sammy hurt,' Dean ground out trying to pull away from Sam's large hands, 'they hurt you.'

'Please Dean you have to calm down for me, can you do that?' Sam asked, 'how bout we have a nap?'

'Nap?' Dean cocked his head to one side and regarded Sam carefully, 'Sammy tired?'

'Yeah Dean, Sammy's tired, very tired.' Sam said as he shifted slightly so he could stretch his long frame out on the bed, his head propped up with pillows to ease the strain on his chest. Dean laid down next to him, one hand still clutching at Sam like a lifeline, his face turned so he could watch Sam with an unblinking stare.

'Oh how cute, two little angels tucked up in bed, what devilish pursuits will ensue after lights out?' The demon taunted them as it reappeared.

'Leave Sammy alone.' Dean growled crouching over Sam; he barred his teeth and snarled at the creature. 'Sammy hurt, leave him alone.'

'My, my Sam it seems that you have your own watchdog.'

What do you want?' Sam asked sitting up he managed to ease Dean back to sit at his side.

'Your decision, what will it be?'

'You will return Dean back to his normal self?' Sam asked carefully, watching the demon carefully.

'Oh if I must.' It pouted, 'though don't you love him as he is, so primitive, so innocent, so animalistic?'

'You must.' Sam said not trusting himself to add what he wanted to, he had to play this game carefully, the demon has already made deals with Dean and broken them, he needed assurances that the demon was going to stay true to his word and return Dean to his usual cocky self. 'Okay return Dean back and I will perform for you, but ... but you have to help him first.'

'Ah now that is playing dirty!' the demon exclaimed,' I love it.'

'So what do you?' before Sam could finish another coughing fit took his voice from him, this time with each cough he brought up large blood clots, dizzy he fell backwards and started to choke on the blood and phlegm coming up from his lungs. Determinably Sam pulled himself up and managed to cough up the blockage, the pain too much for him to bear and he fell backwards again his eyes rolling upward to show only the whites.

'Sammy?' Dean cried out distraught, the rage consuming him again, he raged at the demon, pouncing on him with blinding fast agility. Ripping the face away Dean gouged at the creature's neck, until the body started to dissipate, only the skin shell remaining in a sizzling heap. 'Sammy? Please Sammy?' Dean cried covered in the blood and bodily fluids of the scrambling back to his brother, 'wake up Sammy.'

'D-Dean?' Sam gasped unable to catch his breath, 'can't...'

'No Sammy, no.' Dean whimpered, he had to be strong for his brother; he had to remember what he was like before. 'No Sammy stay with Dean.'

'Demon ... where?'

'Gone.' Dean shrugged but then he let out an anguished cry, 'stay with Dean Sammy.'

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Supernatural – Broken

Disclaimer: Nothing new, just the usual I love to hurt, torture, kiss and caress the guys before I send em back.

------

An Adaptation: from Sade Lyrate's Broken, Chapter 53 of Shards, Shreds, Scraps.

-----

Author's Note: Sorry it has taken so long to get this up, but between the FF site deciding to throw hissy fits and getting essays written for Uni I have been a little umm ... anyway here tis the final chapter of this adaptation.

ALSO: thanks to all of you who have reviewed, I am so sorry if I haven't had a chance to get back to you personally and accept this as a huge thank you. And a big thank you to Sade Lyrate for her inspiring writing.

(((((((((hugs for reviewers)))))))))))) (((((((((((((((((((((Sade Lyrate)))))))))))))))))))

* * *

He tried to ignore the burn in his back, and-

_don'tthinkaboutthat_

His legs wouldn't cooperate, his whole body ached, his cell could have been on the Moon instead of mere feet away.

The afterimage of a supernova flared within his skull as he crawled, the gravel biting into the palm of his left hand. A move, another, the pain aggravated by each pull. Short bursts of breath, his head swimming, the siren song of sleep ever stronger.

The familiar form under his fingers sent a quick praise tumbling through his sluggish mind, past bruised lips.

He flopped against the wall on his side, teeth clenching at the spikes the tiles' roughness drove into his nerves, hand clutching the little device like the straw it was. A deep breath, sea urchins within his lungs, and he flipped open the cell, slick fingers slipping over the speed dial.

"This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency-"

_No._

He sucked in a breath that felt too much like a sob, waited for the recorded message to play out. Prayed Dean'd _pick up the damn phone!_  
Unmistakable beep, mocking him just like his body, lips unfamiliar as he sought to form words, eyes closing as he concentrated on what he knew, what he needed, what he had to do.

Somewhere along the line, he forgot to open them again.

---------------------

Time never skips a beat...

_He flipped open the cell, slick fingers slipping over the speed dial._

_'This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency-'_

_No._

_He sucked in a breath that felt too much like a sob, waited for the recorded message to play out. Prayed Dean'd __pick up the damn phone!__  
Unmistakable beep, mocking him just like his body, lips unfamiliar as he sought to form words, eyes closing as he concentrated on what he knew, what he needed, what he had to do..._

Impatiently he swatted the whatever it was touching his face, he just wanted to sleep a little while longer.

'Dean sorry, Sam wake up now, Dean sorry!' Dean touched Sam's face again, not sure exactly what was happening, Sam looked like he was asleep but he didn't wake up. And now, now, there was that sticky stuff on the floor under him was Sam mad with him and that's why he didn't wake up?

'Oh how touching!' The mocking voice came from behind Dean and he span around ready to protect his brother again. He felt the heat of his rage building inside him again, growling he stared at the intruder and he completely blocked access to Sam.

'Down boy, I'm not going to harm him,' the stranger stepped slightly closer Dean sniffed the air and growled again. 'Dean please don't you recognise me?'

The question threw Dean off for a moment and he regarded the intruder with a harder stare, he looked familiar but his scent was nothing like Dean remembered. 'Leave Sammy alone.' He gritted out, 'you not real.'

'Oh believe me Dean I am very much alive.'

'No, you – you look alive but you smell dead.' Dean shook his head.

'Dad?' Sam whispered weakly making Dean turn and look down at his brother with a mixture of relief and confusion. Why couldn't Sammy smell the death?

'No Sammy, no not Dad ... t-t-trick.' Dean said putting his hand flat on Sam's chest and made Sam meet his intense gaze. 'Smells death.'

When Sam tried to move he cried out in pain, he felt the burning in his back again

_don'tthinkaboutthat ..._ he tried to get his legs to move, to cooperate, but they remained unmoving, and while his whole body ached, his legs were blessedly numb.

'I am sorry Sammy this was not meant to go as far as – as this.' The demon waved his hand in Sam's general direction, a shrug of sympathy the only other movement.

'It is Sam.' Dean ground out, the rage had found its destination and now burrowed deep within the older Winchester's mind. 'You hurt him, you not daddy, you smell death.'

'Now I am sorry but ... I cannot abide this kind of lunacy.' The demon sighed as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, 'come to me Dean.' he said softly, his whisper caressing the primal beast in Dean, 'come to me.' He made a small gesture with his fingers and Dean stood transfixed on those digits staggered across the room to the demon, leaving his post guarding Sam.

'Dean don't...' Sam said weakly, he reached out but even with his extraordinary long arms, he couldn't reach Dean.

'Normally I would delight in playing games with my prey but this ... this is just ridiculous. How can I play when he is no more than an angry child?' the demon mused to no one in particular. 'Tell me Dean, are you happy?'

'Sammy happy, Dean happy.' Dean announced proudly, but then his face twisted into an angry scowl, 'Sammy hurt, Dean angry.'

'Hmm that is what I thought, normal Dean is an almost worthy opponent but this – this is just a primitive beast.'

'Leave him alone, he doesn't understand.' Sam protested, the unmistakable beeping started again, 'I – I'm the one you want.'

'Oh how deliciously ironic the baby brother turned protector to the older brother.' The demon laughed, the room filling with the stench of sulphur, choking Sam even more. He could feel the build up of fluid bubbling in his chest, the wetness, and stickiness of the blood under him, _the unmistakable beep, mocking him just like his body, lips unfamiliar as he sought to form words, eyes closing as he concentrated on what he knew, what he needed, what he had to do. _He heard Dean growl and then nothing, the silence hung in the air like a death noll.

Forcing his eyes open Sam tried to focus on the two figures in the distance, he couldn't make out the faces anymore, the beeping added to his pain, to his headache, a groan left his lips. _don'tthinkaboutthat_

The demon touched Dean's forehead, the hapless young man collapsed lifelessly to the floor, Sam tried to call out, but the sea urchins found their way out as the fluid built up and spewed out of his throat and mouth.

'Oh don't worry Sam, Dean will be fine, just remember you owe me and I intend to collect.' The demon whispered in Sam's ear before disappearing.

-------------

_'Dean?' _his brother's name never passed his lips as he remembered what he had to do, but he forgot to open his eyes.

'We're losing him; get another line in there...'

'Please he can't die...'

'Sir we need to work...'

'He's cold ... why?'

'Sir please ... BP is dropping ...'

'Massive blood loss, he's gone into shock...'

'Damn it Sam breath ...'

'Initiating CPR ...'

'Breath Sam you can't leave me.'

'Gonna have to intubate ... too much blood ... can't see.'

'Stop it, you're choking him ...'

'Lines in ...'

'Tube in ... bag him...'

'Sir please ...'

'You have to save him, he's my brother...'

_'This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency-'_

'Sammy don't you give up, don't you dare give up.'

_'No – no Dean please be there, so tired, just need to sleep. Please forgive me Dean.'_

'He's stopped breathing, defib ... charging ... clear!'

_'Forgive me Dean.'_

'Fight Sammy, dammit fight for me.'

_'So tired of fighting, just want to sleep.'_

'Charging again ... clear...'

_'Have to tell you...'_

'Sammy you die, I die it's a done deal.'

_'Something important, damn get this thing out of my mouth I have to tell Dean...'_

'Still nothing ... charging again ... come on kid don't give up now.'

_'Leave me be, I have to tell Dean ... have to...'_

Voices annoyingly speaking in languages he couldn't understand. He knew he had to do something but he couldn't remember what. 'Where is Dean? Hurts to breath, so tired, feel like ... argh what ... what is this?'

Hands touching him, through the gelatinous water surrounding him, morphing into deformed shapes and textures. His body felt weightless, no pain, no more things swimming in his lungs. Unmistakable beeping, message he has to get a message ... _'no that's not his voice mail.' _Can hear beeping, annoying incessant beeping.

Hands again, _'dude personal space.' _Clunk, whoosh, clunk, beep, so much noise, '_turn off the noise, shit why aren't they listening to me?'_

What did he forget to do? He knew what he had to do...

'Sammy?' Dean noticed the flicker of movement under Sam's eyelids; he was trying to wake up. 'Sammy? Come on dude you can do it, just open those big eyes of yours up for me.'

_'Dean? Can't, don't want to.'_

'Sammy please, don't do this to me, what is this payback for me? I promise I won't walk out like that again.'

_'No Dean, no not your fault, mine it's my fault I pushed you too hard.'_

'Sometimes my anger gets the best of me, fuck it Sammy please you can't leave me like this.'

_'Why you left me?'_

'Just wake up please Sammy I need you. I know that you were mad, hell I was mad at me too. It's just so freaking hard sometimes Sammy ya know.'

_'What are you talking about Dean?'_

'I try so hard, but it's like, the harder I try the worse things get. I shouldna come back Sammy, maybe things would have worked out with you and Dad if I wasn't there screwing everything up.'

_'You never screwed things up you jerk, it was me, I was the family screw up.'_

'Since Dad died, Sammy I've had this anger in me ... it's like this primitive beast that wants to break free. I need you Sammy; I need you to help me keep the beast at bay.'

_'Yeah well it's not too pretty believe me Dean.'_

'Okay so here's the deal...'

_'No more deals Dean!'_

'I will try to talk more and not bottle things up but you, you gotta come back to me dude. How can I do that if you're not here to bully me into it?'

_'Geeze Dean no pressure huh?'_

'Come on Sammy please wake up, I know you're in there, I can see your eyes moving.'

_'You can?'_

'So how about it Sammy? You come back and I'll try to be more ...eww... I can't believe I am gonna say this, I'll try to be more touchy feely.'

_'It's Sam.' _

'Sammy?' Dean gasped staring down at the too pale drawn face of his baby brother, tears shone in his eyes but he blinked them away refusing to believe what he saw in front of him. 'Sammy you're awake? Hey, hey lie still and I'll get the nurse, calm down Sam it's just a tube to help you breathe.'

Sam stared in mute horror at his brother, something foreign was in his throat and mouth, he couldn't breathe, and he couldn't speak. Frantically his free hand flailed at his face trying to remove the blockage.

'Calm down Sammy please, the doc will be here in a sec and he'll get that thing out.' Dean said grasping Sam's flailing hand he gripped it tightly and tried to get Sam to look at him, to calm down.

'Ah I see someone has decided to join the land of the living again.' A deep humour filled voice came from behind Dean making Sam's eyes widen and his panic increase exponentially.

'Sam it's okay, it's just the doc he's here to help.' Dean soothed his terrified brother, rubbing the thumb of his free hand over Sam's forehead, 'it's okay.'

Sam blinked up at Dean and tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but it sounded like he was talking under water. Sam could hear the water rushing in his ears, the sea urchins flapping about wildly taunting him. They weren't going to leave his nice and warm lungs for a while.

'Doc do something.' Dean said panicking as he watched Sam start to fade again.

Just then, a young nurse clattered through the doorway pushing a trolley laden with instruments.

'Very good Jenny, now let's see about getting that tube out Sammy and you'll feel a lot better.'

_'don'tthinkaboutthat ...' _Sam fought to keep his eyes open but he knew that he was fighting a losing battle. He glanced up over the doctor's shoulder to gaze at Dean, his brother looked so tired, unshaven, and ... there was something different, something behind him. Something that Sam wanted to scream at, the cruel claws of unconsciousness took him away before he could warn Dean.

'Doc?'

'It's okay Dean, he's exhausted believe it or not.' The older man smiled gently at the Dean, his respect for this dedicated young man rose again. Over the last two weeks, he had watched him, with his bedside vigil ... talking to his brother, reading to him, and even trying to pick a fight with him. actually, for that matter the two brothers won the hearts of the entire staff of the small district hospital. Sam for his vulnerability and amazing fight against all odds, he should have died way before the ambulance had even arrived.

Then there was Dean, his grin making the young and not so young nurses buckle at the knee, the dedication and love for his brother and the streak of pure stubbornness endeared him to everyone. Cups of coffee materialised next to him, a cot against the wall so he didn't have to sleep in the chair, they did everything possible so all he had to do was concentrate on his brother.

'Hey doc?' Dean said watching the doctor check Sam's bullet wound. 'How's it looking? The infection?'

'Almost gone,' Doctor Gerard Colt smiled as he carefully dressed the wound, 'his drainage tube should be right to come out tomorrow morning too.'

'I ah can't thank you enough.' Dean mumbled, 'you saved Sam's life.'

'I did the medical it was your brother's will to live and your will to keep him here that did it.' The older man smiled even more and clapped Dean on the shoulder, 'take it easy Dean, he's on the road back.'

------------

Sam sat staring out the impala's windscreen, the side window down enough for the fresh air to blow gently across his face. Sighing slightly he slid down the seat a little more and rested his head against the back of the seat.

'You okay there Sammy?' Dean asked after the tenth glance in as many minutes.

'Just tired and a little sore.' Sam admitted letting his eyes slide shut, 'feels good though.'

'Want to stop?'

'Hmm? Oh if you want.'

'Could do with a caffeine break,' Dean grinned 'the next town's only a few miles down the road, you be okay till then?'

'Yep, all good.'

'Sammy?'

'Yeah?'

'We need to ah talk.'

'Bout what?'

'What happened, and how you got shot.'

'Oh that.'

'Yeah that, Dude I thought ... when I got there and found ... fuck Sammy don't scare me like that again.'

'Try not to.'

'So we gonna talk?'

'Yeah I guess,' Sam opened his eyes to slits and turned his head to watch Dean's profile, he could hear Dean's voice in his mind, promising to try to talk more if Sam woke up_. 'If I woke up ... I had to ... something I had to do ...what the freaking hell was it?' _Sam chewed his lower lip and winced as he moved slightly, the pull of new scar still letting him know just how close he came to dying.

'Dean how did you find me?'

'Your message ... I am so sorry Sam I should never have ignored your call.'

'Dean I ...'

'No Sam, I need to apologise I was a total jerk to you, I should never have let my anger get the better of me.'

'I deserved it Dean, sometimes I wonder...'

'Wonder what?'

'How you put up with me.'

'Hey dude you're my brother, we're in this together. We're blood we look after each other through the good and the very ugly.'

'I don't know why I couldn't stop ...' Sam started not actually hearing what Dean said, 'something just kept at me to pick and pick, I couldn't stop it.'

'Sam it's over and you're okay that's all that matters.'

'My message ... what did I say?'

'That you needed help and umm that you knew what you had to do.' Dean glanced over at Sam a thoughtful look replacing his easy grin, 'what did you have to do?'

'I – I'm not sure.' Sam admitted slowly 'it's like I know what it was but I can't ...'

'Don't fret Sammy it'll come back to you.'

'I wasn't ... I waited for you to come back and then I got the call,'

'what call Sammy?'

'Your call, asking me to meet you at the warehouse.'

'Dude that wasn't me.'

'I – I know, but ... it sounded so much like you.'

'And?'

'When I got there ... something was wrong I could feel it but ... then the next thing I can remember was the burning pain in my back, I never saw who shot me Dean.'

'Do you remember anything else?'

'Finding my cell and trying to ring you ... all I got was the voice mail, that's when I knew.'

'Knew what?' Dean asked pushing the lump forming in his throat down with a determined swallow.

'What I had to do.' Sam said softly returning his gaze to the passing scenery and the sign announcing the town limits of Salem.

'What was it Sammy what did you have to do?'

'Hold on until you got there,' Sam replied in hushed tones, 'I knew I had to hold on for you to find me.'

Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly and focused on the traffic, blinking furiously to hold back the tidal wave of emotion building up deep inside. His guilt wall just got another layer put on it, Sam trusted Dean would come even though they had fought, he walked out and drove away in anger, he ignored the call when he saw Sam's name on the screen, his gut twisted as the realisation hit him like a sledge hammer.

'I am so sorry Sammy.'

'Dean ... I ah don't know if it was a dream or hallucination or if it actually happened.'

'What Sammy?'

'The demon, he came wearing Dad's face, and, and he took everything from you, leaving you...'

'Leaving me like what? Fuck Sammy it's like pulling teeth with you, what did he take from me?' Dean winced internally as he heard the tone of his voice, the impatience, and anger sliding back in place.

'Innocent, vulnerable and full of rage, a primal rage that made you rip it into pieces.'

'Sammy it didn't happen dude.'

'I know now, it's just ... it was so real Dean.'

'Not gonna happen Dude.'

'Why?'

'Coz I got you to keep me from losing it altogether,' Dean smirked, 'so we good now? No more chick flick goop?'

'No more for now.' Sam smiled, 'and Dean by the way ... it is Sam ... not ... Sammy ... just Sam.'

'Okay, okay, geeze bossy or what!'

'Jerk.'

'Bitch.'


End file.
